I don’t deserve her.
Almost as soon as she’s gone, I scramble to get my phone and Google the hell out of this press conference. The details seem pretty clear. At 1PM, the President is going live throughout the whole of America.
From the crazy amounts of attention this is getting and the fact it’s been trending on Twitter for hours, I’m pretty sure everyone in the nation is going to be watching.
Knowing David… this has to be a tactical move, doesn’t it? I wonder what he’s come up with. It’s undoubtedly a bid to save his presidency if it can still be saved. I can’t imagine him giving up this easily.
But the rest of the world seems convinced he’s about to resign. Maybe the don’t know him as well as I do.
David won’t just resign. He’ll work every second of every day to get what he wants, at whatever the cost. The man will die trying to save what matters to him the most. What he puts above everything else.
The thought of just how much David is willing to sacrifice makes me curl up again. I don’t need to be reminded of that.
When the afternoon hits, I’m split into two about what I should do. On one hand, I need to see David’s face more than I need anything else in the world right now. On the other hand… the thought of seeing his aforementioned face makes me sick to my stomach.
But when the clock strikes one, my choice is made for me. I have to watch. I can’t stay away, even if it’s for my own good.
The TV buzzes and crackles as I switch it on. Dad bought this thing second-hand years ago and it should rightfully have been thrown in the junkyard at least a few years before that.
Colour erupts onto the screen. When I see David sitting at his desk in the Oval Office, my heart leaps joyously at the sight of him alone. Traitor, I hiss at my body. How am I supposed to pull myself together if all it takes is a brief glimpse of him to send me into euphoria?
“Good evening, America.” He’s looking as frustratingly handsome as ever. “I’m sure you’ve all heard the rumors. I won’t bore you by repeating them or trying to gloss over them.”
I can’t imagine what the world is thinking right now. If they’re even a fraction like me, they’re on the edge of their seats right now and entranced by David’s every word.
“The truth of the matter is this: several weeks ago, comprising photos of myself and a White House intern named Veronica Waters were leaked to the press. We were in a position many people believe to have been intimate.”
Hearing my name on live TV is strange, especially when I’m in the comfort of my own home and so far away from the world where all of that drama is possible.
“Those photos were entirely innocent. I’d never met Miss Waters before the day in question, and an accident arose due to clumsiness,” he says, adjusting his tie. “On both our parts.”
Hearing him admit that we might both be at fault would have given me immense pleasure once. But to have him do it while he’s so far away from me, both physically and metaphorically, only makes me feel sad.
“You might remember the media storm that came our way as a result,” the President says, shaking his head. “It wasn’t pretty. The uncertainty of the situation made it clear that there was no easy way out. As a result… Press Secretary Andrews - the former Press Secretary now, as you will know - and I came up with a plan. A plan Miss Waters reluctantly agreed to, through her own selflessness.”
He’s not talking to me, not really. David probably doesn’t even know I’m watching. But I flush regardless.
“She agreed to change her life forever in order to help me. To save my presidency.” David sighs. He always was reluctant to let this put my life on hold. “At the time, we all knew the plan was questionable. But due to my own recklessness, we went ahead with it.”
I can practically hear every American in the world gasping as they watch this. This is hardly a regular, boring press conference. It’s high drama. Netflix would probably kill for the rights to this whole thing.
“We told the whole world we were engaged,” the President says. “I’m here to tell you what you already know. That was a lie, and you